They were about to take Margaret away. Despite what Mr. Darcy had said, after the events of the morning, Elizabeth felt afraid to let her out of her sight.
“I must stay with her,” she replied.
“Her lips are blue, poor little thing,” said Mrs. Durrell, her face kind. “We need to get her out of these wet clothes, and rub her dry, ma’am. She will be safe with us. You had better attend to yourself.”
Maggie looked at Elizabeth, trying to decide whether to go or not. Elizabeth quickly sought to reassure her.
“Mrs. Durrell will look after you, moppet. I will be upstairs, too, in another room. Just call for me if you need anything, and I will come. Now, go and get warm. You do not wish to fall ill, do you, after you have been so brave?”
Maggie shook her head.
“Good. Then off you go.”
With just a quick look backwards, Maggie walked up the stairs, her hand tucked trustingly in Mrs. Durrell’s hand. Elizabeth watched as the housekeeper talked cheerfully to the little girl and her tension dissolved. Clearly, she knew how to deal with children.
Left with no other choice, Elizabeth followed Miss Darcy as she went to fetch some ink and paper. She wrote down her uncle’s information painstakingly slowly, trying not to drip on the page and make the ink run.
“Good,” said Miss Darcy. “I shall write to Mr. Gardiner and tell him we will be sending you home by carriage. But first, I will ring for Maisie to take you upstairs to change.”
A few minutes later, a young maid appeared. By now Elizabeth was beginning to feel too tired to follow anything that Miss Darcy said to Maisy. She desperately needed to change. That was all she cared about.
“If you will come with me, ma’am, we’ll get you sorted,” said the maid, introducing herself as Maisy. “Someone is lighting the fireplace in one of the guest bedchambers, and Miss Darcy will be up in a minute to find something from her wardrobe for you to change into. Hot water will be brought up for you to wash.”
Elizabeth was touched by everyone’s kindness. She felt guilty for causing so much trouble and for having to impose on people who did not even know her.
As the maid led her upstairs, Elizabeth was awed by the grandeur of the place. She was led to a bedchamber that was twice the size of the parlor at Longbourn. It was elegantly decorated in golden chinoiserie wallpaper with exotic birds perched on tree branches.
“I’ll bring you some towels, ma’am. I’ll just be a moment,” said Maisie, drawing an armchair closer to the fire. She gestured for Elizabeth to occupy it, curtseyed and left.
Elizabeth stayed on her feet and slapped her sides to get warm. If she sat, she would soak the armchair through and through. After a few minutes, she changed her mind and sat on the edge of her seat to pull off her half boots and stockings. She was shivering. The heavy chill seemed to be seeping into her very bones.
Having accomplished that much, she stood up again, warming her hands and toes on the merry fire, drawing as close as she could without risking a burn, wishing the maid would return so she could change.
Not long after, Maisy returned, carrying a pile of towels. She was followed by another maid who was carrying items of clothing. “I am sorry for taking so long, ma’am.”
“Not at all. I have been keeping warm,” said Elizabeth.
“Would you like to choose what to wear?” The second maid laid out three dresses on the bed.
By now Elizabeth truly did not care what she wore, as long the clothes were dry.
“That one will do.” She pointed to one that was white, with a burgundy sash and a pretty burgundy print. Miss Darcy had thoughtfully supplied stays as well as a chemise.
“Let me help you undress, ma’am.”
Elizabeth went behind the silk screen in the corner of the room. The maid undid the buttons and assisted Elizabeth as she peeled off the layers, undoing her stays, then handing her towels to wrap around herself behind the screen. Elizabeth rubbed herself dry until her skin began to tingle, then slipped on the dry chemise. With Maisy’s assistance, she donned Miss Darcy’s dress. Finally, the maid handed her a pair of woolen stockings.
“The gown is too long,” said Maisie. “We can have it taken up, if you like.”
A wave of exhaustion threatened to overcome Elizabeth. “Perhaps later.”
She sank into the chair. The maid used a towel to gently pat Elizabeth’s hair.
“We can curl it once it is dry,” said Maisy. “But for now, you had better sit near the fireplace until it does. We don’t want you to fall ill after Mr. Darcy took all the trouble to rescue you.”
Mr. Darcy had savedMaggiefrom the water, not Elizabeth. Elizabeth was about to correct the maid, but she held back. What did it matter in any case? Mr. Darcy had been a true gentleman. Let the servants credit him with saving both her and Maggie.
Dry and snug in her new clothes, Elizabeth settled into the armchair as the maid stoked the fire. Elizabeth basked in the warmth, she found herself drifting into sleep. She roused herself, but moments later, she started to drift off again. At some point the maid woke her up and handed her some warm milk. Elizabeth drank it gratefully, then drifted back into sleep.
